


Two Times Hermione Found Out

by LVB



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Babyfic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LVB/pseuds/LVB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two times Hermione found out and one time she dropped the ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Times Hermione Found Out

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I am making no profit from this piece of fiction.
> 
> A/N: Originally written for the Ron and Hermione Baby Challenge at rhrloveDOTcom

It was a fairly ordinary day at the Ministry of Magic. The day was equally as dreary as the one before and the pile of paperwork was only marginally smaller. It was Friday which meant a weekend of revising parchment, reading in front of the fireplace and the weekly Weasley dinner.

It sounded perfect to Hermione.

She glanced at the clock in her cramped cubicle. Half three. Mere hours until she could be wrapped in a warm blanket nursing a piping hot cup of tea and munching on a biscuit or two. The thought of biscuits excited her. She had eaten three snacks after lunch already but found herself already craving another.

Normally Hermione didn’t eat at work at all. Meetings and paperwork meant that she rarely had the time but now, if she didn’t get something to satiate the building hunger, she would positively burst.

So with finesse, she rose out of her seat and stretched, enjoying the feeling of her muscles expanding. Her colleague, Arasmit Hornbuckler smiled at her. “All right there, Hermione?”

“Hmm? Oh, just off to get some tea and a snack.”

Arasmit’s eyebrow shot up. “Again? It’s only half three Hermione and you just finished your fruit salad.”

She looked at the empty bowl. Yes, she did have a fruit salad, didn’t she? Well, that was much too healthy.

“Just a biscuit or two,” she reassured Arasmit. “Do you want anything?”

He shook his head. Hermione shrugged and figured that if she brought double the biscuits, people would just assume they were to share. She pushed her chair in gleefully and planned her deception.

With a quick glance at the boss’s closed door, she snuck out of the cubicle. She could attack her department’s kitchen but she thought about those large chocolate chip biscuits in the cafeteria and her decision was made.

On her way to the elevator, she passed several familiar faces.

“Hullo, Hermione!”

“Wotcher!”

She waved hurriedly, not wanting to stop and ruin her expedition. Finally, she reached the elevator. As she entered, she realized it was only her and the two ridiculous women from the Magical Games Department in the elevator. Hermione averted her eyes as the women, who wore fine tailored robes and sky-high and rather impractical heels made room for her.

Hermione didn’t exactly dislike the two witches--more that she found them completely insipid. She wiggled her toes in her comfortable shoes and played with the simple gold band that adorned her wedding finger.

“Have you seen how big Hattie is?” the blonde started as the elevator jerked into action, causing Hermione’s fruit salad to nearly make a startling reappearance.

Lyla, the redhead nodded enthusiastically at the other woman’s comment. Hermione tried to recall the blonde’s name to no avail. Serena? Samantha? Salmonela? “She’s the size of a _giant_!” Giggling followed.

Giggling! Honestly, had they even seen a giant? Unlikely.

“And all she does is eat. I know she’s supposed to be eating for two but honestly, put down the large packet of crisps, Hattie. I’m sure baby freckles doesn’t want to come out looking that much like her mum!”

Oh, they were talking about Hattie, the lovely witch in her thirties who had fallen pregnant after years of trying. Hattie, the slightly plump brunette with freckles who was kind to everyone. That was whom the two she-beasts were talking about!

“First it’s the eating,” Lyla continued. “Then the queasiness and then we’ll be left doing the work while she’s off spewing in the lavatory.”

“If she even makes it,” the blonde added.

Hermione was disgusted. In fact, the jolt the elevator had given her and set her up to be in a prime position to spew all over blondie and Lyla’s impractical shoes. She hoped they were dragonhide.

“How about her skin? They say that it is a pregnancy glow but I bet she has a spell that does that.”

Now they were complaining about the state of the poor woman’s skin?

“She’s rather bitchy these days, our dear Hattie. She actually had the nerve to scold me for taking a two and a half hour lunch yesterday! She could have easily covered for me or just done the paperwork herself,” the blonde snapped to a sympathetic looking Lyla.

“What a bitch!”

Another lurch in the elevator reminded Hermione of her second post-lunch snack. A large packet of crisps.

“Pregnancy is disgusting. Stretch marks, getting fat and not to mention the eating. I’m never having children!”

Finally, something Hermione could support. However, something else was nagging at her, something she should know but couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

The blonde flicked her hair and leant in closer to Lyla but didn’t lower her voice. “I was late once and I was so upset with myself. Thankfully, the test turned out negative. I would’ve gone spare! Plus, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint who it might’ve been--”

Late. Hungry. Increasingly angry. The crisps. The delicious, delicious crisps. Oh.

_Oh_.

 

“Anyway, the quicker that fat bitch goes on maternity leave, the happier I’ll be.”

“Agreed,” Lyla added quickly, just as the elevator came to a thundering stop.

And as she took her first steps, the image of her first post-lunch snack, a peanut-butter and pickle sandwich came to mind. She paused, feeling sick, terrified and completely elated at her discovery.

“Do you mind?” the blonde, _ah, Salma_ , said, pushing her out of the way.

“Not at all,” Hermione said sincerely and promptly vomited onto two pairs of shiny dragonhide heels.

\---

Hermione smiled as the sight of her daughter and her two nephews sat intrigued as Teddy Lupin read them a story from a well-read book Hermione had given him. Other kids ran around the Potter backyard as various Weasleys and partners chased them in between eating.

Ginny looked completely exhausted as she handed out slices of birthday cake adorned with blue icing: _Happy Birthday James_. The gifts had all been opened and the birthday boy, plus his enthusiastic sibling and cousins had enjoyed the fine wrappings. Hermione smiled as she felt the strong and delicious hands of her husband wrap around her, like a warm and protective blanket.

“Hi,” she said as he nuzzled her neck.

“We spend five galleons on that bloody broomstick and there he is, content to listen to a book and play with the paper,” Ron grumbled.

“At least he looks happy. Look at your poor brother.”

Ron turned to see Percy holding a screaming baby Molly, while her namesake tried to calm her with Ginny’s old rattle. Percy looked as if he would lay an egg at any given minute.

“Now look at our little sweetheart,” Hermione added pointing to the visibly engaged Rose. She was holding hands with Albus. “Want to start complaining?”

Ron smiled. “Nope.”

As quickly as the serene moment had come about, Rose then squealed as Albus tore his hand away from hers. James ignored them as a tiny Rose and Albus began to scowl at each other.

Ron sighed. “Reckon she’s gonna cry again when we try to take her home?”

Hermione frowned at the memory of their last visit. Rose was very attached to her two favourite cousins and would often cry and throw a spectacular tantrum at the mere thought of being separated. It was very clear to all of them that Rose wanted and probably needed a sibling. Nature hadn’t been so helpful though.

The sound of Ginny huffing and shoving two expertly cut slices of cake into their hands interrupted Hermione’s thoughts. Hermione’s eyes lit up and grabbed the proffered slice eagerly. “Thank you!”

Ron grabbed his with an equal amount of vigor, shoving the chocolate cake into his mouth. “Thanks Gin,” he said through a mouthful of cake.

“Delicious,” Hermione added, her own mouth full. Quite honestly, the cake was spectacular. So spectacular that Hermione knew it was one of Molly’s creations or from the cake shop in Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, she and Ginny both hadn’t been blessed with skill in the kitchen. The last event of Ginny cooking had actually sent her wand into a stupor which had decommissioned her wand until Ollivander could magic the flour out of the tiny cracks.

“All right there?” Ginny asked, clearly amused. “Hermione, I think my idiot brother is rubbing off on you.”

Hermione blushed at the thought of what they had both been doing this morning in the shower. “Could be worse things to rub off on,” Ron chimed in.

Ginny grimaced. “You’re a prat and a pig.”

Stuffing the last sliver of cake into his mouth, Ron bowed. “Well if it’s all the same to you, I’m going over there,” he said, pointing to George and Harry. “To converse with the other prats and pigs, namely your bloody husband.”

“Be my guest,” Ginny snapped. Hermione kissed Ron briefly on the cheek. “Bye love!” he said brightly. As soon as he was gone, Ginny looked around conspiratorially. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Nobody is listening, Ginny.”

Ginny leant in closer. “Do you have them?”

Hermione nodded. “Let’s pop off to the loo, yeah?”

“Brilliant. Oi, Mum, Hermione and I will be back in a mo.”

Molly waved at them in response and Ginny’s hand snaked around Hermione’s. Hermione clutched her bag as they wove through the house until they reached the third floor guest bathroom.  
Hermione tried to contain her grin as Ginny locked the door by hand. “There.”

She opened her pocket and retrieved the miniaturised plastic boxes. She took out her wand and reversed the spell, struggling to hold the twelve packets in their large form. “Are you sure you don’t want to just check with a Healer?”

Ginny shook her head. “I would have to explain to somebody. Besides, this will be easier and quicker.”

Hermione could understand Ginny’s predicament-- without her own wand, the test results would be unreliable and really, who had time to spare with two children anyway? Muggles took these tests all the time and from what she had read, they were completely reliable.

“I wasn’t sure how paranoid you’d be, so I stocked up,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “How sure _are_ you?”

Ginny sighed and tore open a packet of two, taking one. Hermione turned around as Ginny sat on the toilet. “It feels the same. Bloody starving, I’m late, my breasts hurt. You remember.”

Yes, she certainly did. She remembered how excited and happy Ron had been when she had blurted out her happy news over their quiet Friday dinner. He had read up on the subject immediately and had tended to her every need, even cheering every time Hermione had raided the fridge. It had been a wonderful time.

Things were silent as Ginny finished up. Both women watched as Ginny placed four pregnancy tests in a row next to one another. Hermione was beginning to feel very excited for her friend. “Does Harry suspect?”

Ginny snorted. “My husband, the Chosen One. Wonderful man, not very bright though,” she joked. “He thinks the tender breasts are because I’m panting at the sight of him. He has no clue.”

Panting at the sight of Harry wasn’t a far stretch for Ginny, but Hermione kept her thoughts to herself. Besides, she wasn’t much better with Ron and things had only improved since Rose had come into the world. He was a fantastic father and that made him even more attractive to her.

Hermione’s wand glowed to show that time was up. “Well, you ought to check and confirm those motherly instincts of yours.”

Ginny took a deep breath and leant over to check the tests lined up on the basin. All were blue.

“Merlin,” she breathed before breaking into a smile. “Hermione...”

Hermione could barely contain her excitement. “Congratulations!”

She enveloped her friend in a hug. “Harry is going to be thrilled! And the boys!”

Ginny’s face dropped. “Merlin, Hermione, what if I have another boy? We’ve run out of boy names!”

“I’m sure Ron wouldn’t mind being a namesake. Actually, that could be said for all of your brothers,” Hermione suggested, banishing the evidence away from the bathroom with her wand. “Are you going to tell him tonight?”

Ginny nodded. “Probably when the boys are asleep, which will be late, considering how much cake they’ve eaten.”

The thought of the cake suddenly made Hermione ravenous. “Do you think there’s any left? I’d love another slice,” Hermione enthused. Ginny looked at her strangely.

“Hermione, you hate sugar,” Ginny reminded her. “Dentists and all?”

Well, of course she normally hated sugar. Well, vast amounts of sugar, really. But that cake, with its lovely icing, not to mention the chocolate. Ginny perked up. “Hermione, pull down your trousers.”

Hermione came crashing back to the real world. “Excuse me?”

Ginny rolled her eyes and pointed to the toilet. “Just for fun.”

Oh.

“That’s a silly idea,” Hermione scolded. “I mean, its quite ridiculous to waste the rest of those. What if you need to check again?”

“Hermione, I’ve done four. You went mental and bought half the supermarket aisle. _Use them_.”

Hermione huffed and snatched the two pregnancy tests out of Ginny’s hand. “Honestly!”

The nerve.

Ginny turned her back. “Imagine, we could be pregnant together again!”

Hermione enjoyed it the first time, but she wasn’t sure about a second time. Really, Ginny ought to be glared at for even suggesting the absurd plan. But Hermione dutifully completed the two tests and grimaced when Ginny handed her four more.

“Just in case.”

Hermione washed her hands thoroughly and stood next to Ginny and thought about the cake again. Suddenly, a thump at the door broke their concentration.

“Ginny?” Ron’s voice sounded. “D’you know where Hermione is?”

Ginny grinned. “Ginny!” Hermione whispered.

“Bugger off,” she shouted back. “I’m on the loo!”

“We had one toilet at the Burrow and seven kids,” Ron roared back. “You’re barmy if you think I’ve never heard you piss before!”

Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband’s crude suggestions. She tilted her head to look at Ginny but instead of glaring at the door at her brother, she was staring madly at the basin.

At six blue pregnancy tests.

Cake.

_Oh_.

Ginny grinned and mirrored the hug Hermione had given her earlier. “Congratulations!”

She didn’t wait for Hermione to banish the tests and hurriedly unlocked the door to see a red-faced Ron. “Found her,” Ginny said happily and pulled Ron into the bathroom.

Hermione stared at Ginny in amazement as she stepped out. “See you downstairs!”

\--

Ron stretched his legs out on the sofa and rubbed his sore knee. Keeping up with the younger recruits was getting more and more difficult but he’d be damned if he let any little shits outrun him on the Auror training course. He was Ron Weasley, after all.

Last week he had Hugo, Al and James to have a run around the course and had been half mortified, half proud when they had beaten him around the track. He had called Harry out, who had been stuck behind the big desk for years, to make him feel better. The speckled git had at least made him feel better with his less than mediocre performance. Hugo had at least been polite about the matter, Al and James had ripped into their dad all evening.

Ron grabbed his wand and set the fireplace alight. Hugo was over at the Potters and Rose was locked up in her room writing love letters to her sodding boyfriend. He was waiting for his lovely wife to arrive home from work so they could start making dinner. The two days before Christmas were always Ron’s favourite-- he loved his family time. Being the parent of teenagers was difficult but he loved having everyone home at the same time.

He frowned and checked the clock on the wall. Hermione’s beaming face told him that she was still at work. He then checked the real clock. Half six. She should have been home at five. Before he could send his Patronus, Hermione, in all her glory, clumsily Apparated into the middle of the living room.

She stumbled and swore, kicking off her modest heels in the process, nearly tripping over her cloak. “Bollocks!”

Ron chuckled, amused at her misfortune. “Hi.”

She looked up, startled to see him relaxed on the couch. “Oh! You’re home! I thought you had training today?”

Ron shook his head. “That ended yesterday, remember? Bum knee?’

The memory had clearly come back to her. “Yes, of course. Sorry. You didn’t happen to start dinner yet?”

Ron stood, ignoring the twinge in his knee. “Was waiting for you.”

Hermione looked at him, clearly impressed. Many years of waiting had seasoned Ron into a capable man in the kitchen. He was an expert at snacking before dinnertime but he had really wanted to cook with Hermione tonight.

Her face lit up and she deposited her cloak onto the floor. Ron looked at her. Had she gone mental? The _floor_? Hermione followed his line of sight and reddened, sending the cloak to the rack with a flick of her wand. “Are you alright?” Ron asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. They weren’t that old, she still had sixty odd years until she went completely barmy.

Hermione waved him off. “Long day. Come on, I’m starving.”

Ron shook his head and led the way into the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients for roast chicken. “It’ll still be a while. I’ll set this up, why don’t you make us a snack?”

Hermione readily agreed, leaving Ron to work his magic on the chicken. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was definitely strange. Hermione was never clumsy or forgetful, well not a long time, anyway. With both Rose and Hugo, Hermione had succumbed to pregnancy brain and had often had trouble Apparating. But that was a long time ago.

“Are the kids here?” Hermione asked as she started pulling out things from the fridge. Ron concentrated on stuffing the chicken.

“Rosie’s upstairs and Hugo is at the Potter residence. He’ll be back at seven.”

Hermione sighed. “They’re not still tormenting poor Harry, are they? He’s very sensitive about that little paunch he’s developed, isn’t he?”

Ron laughed and tried to focus on the fact that his hand wasn’t up a dead bird’s arse. “Might give him a kick up the arse to come and train with the rest of us, the git. I mean, they outran me too, but not nearly as bad.”

“They’re just teenagers, Ron. It’s a good thing they’re starting to beat you. I remember when Hugo was just a baby. So small...I’m glad he’s kicking your arse out there.”

Ron turned around to challenge her and set his eyes on the two plates in front of him. Hermione beamed as she held the plate closer to him. “Sandwich?”

Ron looked closely at the sandwich. Peanut butter. But there was something else, something green.

He felt sick. “Is that...is that a pickle?”

Hermione nodded happily and put his plate down on the bench. She grabbed her own sandwich from the plate, wolfing it down. “Mmm hmmm.”

Ron stared at her in wonder. Peanut butter and pickles? Was she trying to tell him something? The sound of Rose stomping around her room sparked an idea in him. Surely, not at their age?

Hermione was finished her sandwich. He held his hands out, seeing as they were covered in chicken and various herbs. He looked closely at her skin. Perfect. He looked at her plate, completely empty. And then he looked at her stomach.

Bloody hell.

“Hermione?”

She frowned. “What? Do I have a stain? Did I rip something?”

Ron shook his head. “Love, when was your last period?”

Her lovely face turned into a scowl. “Ron Weasley, how is that appropriate dinner convers--oh.”

He raised his eyebrow and tried to calm his breathing. “Oh?”

Both their eyes flicked to the calendar. She shook her head vehemently. “No. It’s from work. Stress, you know? And that idiot Barclay has me doing his work as well as mine and I am the mother of two teenagers, you know, as well as being the wife of an Auror!”

She was talking so fast, he could barely keep up. The woman in front of him reminded him of the schoolgirl he fell in love with so long ago-- wild hair, big eyes and a flustered and angry quality that he found so endearing.

She was his wife and the mother of his two children. And she was about to go for Round Three.

“Look what you just ate.”

Hermione threw the plate.

“Bloody hell, woman!” Ron screeched, stepping back. “Are you mental?!”

“Are you saying I’m fat? Is that what you were looking at?” Hermione demanded. “I ought to send you to sleep at your mother’s!”

Ron ignored his dirty hands and grabbed his wand, banishing the shards. “Get your wand out!” he said softly.

She huffed. “You may be an Auror, Ron Weasley, but I could beat you in a duel!”

Of this, he had no doubt. “I’m not going to duel you, Hermione,” he said impatiently. “Cast the bloody spell.”

She threw her hands up and stormed into the living room. “Fine, I’ll do the spell, just to show you that you are completely and utterly wrong.”

He had heard that one before. Hermione grabbed her wand and pointed it toward her stomach.

“ _Homenum Revelio_.”

A blue light shot out from her wand and highlighted a huge, glowing circle on her stomach. A huge grin spread over his face. “Well!”

Hermione looked confused. “What?!”

Trying to avoid touching her with his dirty hands, Ron wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss on her lips.

“Hermione,” he said, through his smile, “you’re having a baby!”

  



End file.
